Life of Sin
by Hybridlovelies
Summary: A Klaroline Human AU in which Klaus and Caroline are a modern day Bonnie & Clyde, serial killer style. Co Written with Klausykins
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone! This is a co-written AU fic by me and Kady ( ~Klausykins ). She is writing for Klaus and I am writing for Caroline. The idea is for us to update two chapters at a time, one for Klaus and one for Caroline. There will be some TVD cameos, but not in the way you expect - in some instances, just the name will be familiar but they won't be the same person they are in the TVD universe.**

**We really hope you guys enjoy this because we've worked really hard to make this a great collaboration.**

**I'm uploading the first two chapters here on my account, so anyone on author alert can get the notice, but after this you can find them on Kady's (again, she's Klausykins).**

**And p.s. this is a bit different than my usual writing, but still great imho, and if you guys don't know Kady's writing she's fantastic as well!**

**Enjoy! And let us know what you think!**

_~~Klaus~~_

I watch her as she sets the woman's hands across her stomach. I lick my lips, liking to watch her. I was finished a while ago. I'm quicker than she is. I think she still feels guilty and it takes her a while to get over the actual idea that she is going to kill someone.

She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes. I can see the struggle there. This is not her first time, she's done this many times before, but there is still that inner quandary haunting her. I need to work harder for her, to make this easier for her. This is supposed to be uplifting, a form of therapy for us and yet I feel like she still is not used to the way it can be.

But I know she enjoys it. I can see the care and attention she takes when handling the females, a care and attention that I should start to mimic. After all, we don't have to be savages about this whole thing.

She opens her eyes and stands up, walking over to me.

"Time to go," she whispers, and I nod. We can't stand here too long, can't risk exposure.

That's the thing that makes this all work, we're meticulous and get in and out as quickly as possible.

I grab her hand, our leather gloves making a squeaking sound and I clasp her hand tightly and we silently walk out of the house. We close the door and quickly walk down the path to the sidewalk, the cold air nipping at our cheeks.

It's late, the middle of the night, and the street is dark aside from a few streetlamps. I feel her body shaking next to mine as we walk down the block, making a right and finding our car. I reach into my pocket with my free hand and grab the remote, beeping the car open. We climb into the car and I turn it on, blasting the heater. I angle the heater vents towards her as she buckles her seat belt and I can see she's still shaking, but the cold is not any excuse this time.

"You did a good job in there," I say to her and she turns to look out the window. I sigh and put the car in gear, taking off out of the neighborhood and towards the highway.

We sit in silence for a long time until I cannot take it anymore.

"They were your idea, love."

"I know," she says, still looking out the window.

We had been sitting in a bar, passing through this town, and this couple continued to argue at the table next to ours. They were loud, drunk, obnoxious, and fighting over the dumbest of things. He was abusive and hit her and she was tired of the beatings, but could only express this when she was intoxicated. Caroline kicked me under the table and I looked behind me, watching as they insulted each other back and forth. I shook my head and sipped my beer.

"Them," she said, chugging the rest of her drink.

I just shrugged, like I always did. I didn't care who it was tonight, tomorrow, last week. But her being the one to choose was a good sign. This whole thing may have started based off of my suggestion but she wanted to do this.

After what had happened to her she deserved some revenge, some retribution, a way to mend herself. I would do this for her, I would do anything for her. I love her.

I have been driving for an hour. We need to get as far away from here as possible. I turn off the heater, the car incredibly warm. I glance over at her and she is leaning her head against the window, her eyes closed.

She looks so beautiful when she sleeps. I don't know how I ever landed the good fortune of meeting her and making her my everything, my world. I reach over and rub her thigh softly, smiling.

I pull into a motel when we are three hours outside of where we just were. I leave her in the car as I pay for a room, the bored clerk at the desk flipping through a magazine as reruns of the _Golden Girls_ plays on an old television set. I park the car next to our room and carry her inside. Her arms wrap around my neck and I kiss her forehead.

My beautiful, precious Caroline.

I lay her gently on the bed, removing her shoes. I don't want to disturb her. It's important for her to get her sleep after a night like this, it helps her not to think so much about what she has just done.

She asks me all of the time how I cope and I tell her the truth.

_It's because I have you, love. You give me all of the strength I need._

Of course what we're doing is wrong. Killing people is not something normal people do. But we aren't normal. We have our reasons and they work for us.

I slip off my own shoes and climb into bed with her, smiling as she lays her head on my chest and snuggles close against me.

She was _so_ good tonight, once she got going. She may be starting to get the hang of this. I have told her we can stop at anytime but I think she secretly likes it.

She probably hasn't admitted it to herself yet, so she won't admit it to me for even longer.

That's okay, as long as she doesn't leave me I don't care how long it takes.

Caroline means more to me than anyone in this world ever has.

Even more than _her_.


	2. Chapter 2

_~~Caroline~~_

I jerk awake. My breath comes fast and I try to calm myself. In and out, in and out, I say to myself, it's just a dream. Will it ever stop haunting me? It's been almost a year now. Maybe that's why I keep seeing it every time I close my eyes lately. It's the anniversary.

Klaus shifts beside me in his sleep, his arm around my back as I am curled into his chest. I smile. Unconsciously he's felt me wake up, but he's still out like a light. I stare at his face, noticing about three days worth of scruff. He needs a shave. But I like the scruff. I wonder to myself what he might look like with a full beard. I smile again.

I can usually tell what kind of mood he's in based on the way he holds me in his sleep. He only has one arm around me, the other stretched over his head. Tonight he is calm. He's proud of me for our work earlier. I saw the gleam in his eye as we followed the pair from the bar home and broke into their house. They never saw it coming. None of them do.

I exhale and close my eyes again, but the images from the dream flash behind my eyelids. I can't get back to sleep. I decide a shower is best. I slip away from Klaus's grasp, careful to not wake him and head into the shower, letting the warm spray wash away the bad memories.

* * *

"Time to wake up love," Klaus murmurs. It's morning now. His lips caress my fore head, my cheek, the tip of my nose. I hum delightedly and he finally captures my lips. I can feel the heat coiling inside of me. It happens whenever we touch. But I push away. He frowns.

"Morning breath," I explain.

"I adore your morning breath."

"That's gross," I reply. "I don't adore yours."

He chuckles and lifts himself off of me, retreating to the bathroom. I here the sink running and the scrubbing sounds of his toothbrush. I reach over and click on the television set.

I flip past the news. If we're on it, I don't care to see. It just makes me feel jittery all over. Sometimes I hate the spotlight, but I know Klaus loves it. He loves the rebel without a cause feel he gets from the whole media spin. I feel like it will just lead us to getting caught, even though no one knows what we look like. He always reassures me that we've been doing this long enough to never get caught. He promises to protect me from the law. But it's not the law that scares me at this point. It's separation. Death row I can handle. Life in prison I can handle. Life without him I cannot.

I stop on a random music channel and let the noise fill the morning, before joining Klaus in the bathroom to brush my own teeth and get ready for the day.

"What would you like to do today?" He asks me, leaning back against the bathroom counter.

"Hmmm," I respond with my toothbrush in my mouth. I finish brushing and rinse my mouth with water. "I think I would like to get a tattoo."

His eyebrows shoot up. "A tattoo?"

"Yes," I nod, "I've been thinking about it for a while now."

He chuckles. "You've been thinking about it since we saw that film."

I poke my tongue out at him. "Not true! I've wanted one for a while now. The movie just sealed the deal."

He laughs indulgently and drops a kiss on my lips. He tastes fresh and minty, like the toothpaste. "Very well."

We drive downtown and Klaus finds a decent looking shop. He flips through portfolios with me, but I don't want anything super complicated.

"Just a rose," I say to the artist as I sit in his chair.

"Where?" He asks me. He's covered in tattoos himself, a red bandana around his hair and a large ring in his eyebrow.

"Here," I say pointing to a spot on my chest, just above my heart.

"Ok," the artist says, "I can bring you over to the private area. You'll have to remove your shirt and bra."

I step forward to follow him but Klaus stops me. "No."

I turn and stare at him. He's got that possessive glare in his eye. I know what's bothering him, but he needs to get over it.

"Klaus—"

"I said no," he snaps, "pick another place. One that preferably doesn't require the removal of clothing."

I narrow my eyes at him a moment longer and then finally concede. I turn back to my artist.

"My ankle?" I ask.

He shrugs, "A tattoo like this would look cooler as a chest piece-," he stops mid-sentence making eye contact with Klaus, "but the ankle would look just as good."

I nod and sit back in the chair, Klaus hovering next to me the whole time, his eyes on the artists as he inks me. I wonder fleetingly if I might see this man's blood on Klaus's hands later tonight.

* * *

**So if you like this story, be sure to head to Kady's page (Klausykins) and put it on alert. No more updates here. And let us know what you think of the start. Loving it? Hating it? Undecided?**

**:)**


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